


The Kobaloi

by dillonmania



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Ancient Greece, Flash Rogues, Gen, Gods, M/M, Trickster Gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lives of six thieves -- and one vigilante -- are transformed on a fateful day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kobaloi

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about because I was reading up on Hermes, and learned he was the god of thieves and a trickster in addition to his association with speed. 
> 
> Here's a guide to the Greek names used in the fic, which will give you clues to the characters' identities.
> 
> Armonikós - skilled in music (you'll notice the root of 'harmony')  
> Aphlektos - unburnt, unconsumed by fire  
> Epíklopos - wily, cunning, tricky  
> Dineuo - whirl, spin, turn around  
> Katápsychros - very cold  
> Aetos - stormy, furious, nothing stands still  
> Dromaios - running at full speed, quickly
> 
> These are almost certainly not actual names used in ancient Greece, but they should work as proper names. And for reference's sake, the caduceus was called the kerukeion in Greek.

Six men were on the road again, walking as quickly as they could while burdened with a moderate amount of loot. They avoided other travellers whenever possible, as they were always leery of encountering angry victims or self-appointed lawmen, or even people who might serve as witnesses in the future. The men called themselves the _Kobaloi_ , named after the sprites with a love of tricking unsuspecting mortals, and a term sometimes applied to impish rogues such as themselves. The group was notorious for its brazen thefts, which required them to travel widely to evade outraged citizens and find new marks to rob. They’d almost certainly be executed if caught by the authorities, as they lacked the money to pay off their debts or the social status to be permitted exile, so swift movement was essential.

“Hear us, Hermes,” Epíklopos implored loudly as they trudged down a rough dirt path. The stony track made for exhausting travel, rendering everyone dusty and particularly cranky. “Grant us safe passage along the road to Argos.”  
“There’s a time and place for prayer, and this is not it,” Katápsychros muttered at him. “We’ll leave offerings at the next shrine.”  
“Why?” Epíklopos asked indignantly, hoping Hermes hadn’t heard those impious words. “Any wise traveller would offer that prayer, not just thieves.”  
“He means that the gods don’t want to listen to your constant nattering any more than we do,” Dineuō groused from a few feet away, and Epíklopos frowned. He’d have to leave extra libations over the next few days and pray for the gods to forgive his companions’ blasphemy.

The Kobaloi were unusually irritable that evening, having barely escaped alive from the last village they’d plundered. They’d been caught in the act and had to run without everything they’d intended to steal, and were constantly looking behind them to see if anyone was following. Normally Epíklopos’ cheery talk and the regular prayers to Hermes were welcomed, but today they barely paused at the god’s shrines despite the entire group’s reverence for him. As the god of thieves and travellers, Hermes was of special importance to them.

“There’s an inn not far from here,” Aētos observed carefully, jogging several lengths ahead of the others.  
“Should we stay there or find shelter elsewhere?” Armonikós asked Katápsychros, who paused and was clearly weighing their options.  
“We haven’t seen anyone behind us for at least half a day,” the leader finally decided after some thought. “I think it will be safe if we keep a low profile.” There was a significant glance at Epíklopos, who seemed offended.  
“No stealing?” Aphlektos asked, and Katápsychros nodded.  
“None. Not even to lift someone’s purse.”  
There were frowns all around, but ultimately the others realized he was probably right.

“We’ll bury the loot before going inside, to keep anyone from getting suspicious,” Katápsychros decreed, and with much grumbling the men acquiesced. They always carried two shovels with them for this very purpose, as there was no other safe place to store valuables. It was common practice amongst people travelling or leaving in a hurry, so the behaviour wasn’t even considered particularly suspicious. Aētos kept a look-out for anyone who might stumble upon them while digging, and they buried their goods away from the road without any trouble.

The Kobaloi presented a puzzling sight to the innkeeper and his slave. Six rumpled men who’d clearly been walking a long time -- and the strangest aspect was that they were from different parts of Greece. None were local to the area, and they almost certainly weren’t related to each other by blood. But it wasn’t part of an innkeeper’s job to ask questions, and they seemed to pose little risk as cutthroats. He politely accepted the explanation that they were heading to Argos on merchant business, and gave them two rooms.

“The innkeeper’s boy was very beautiful, wasn’t he?” Aētos asked Armonikós with a wry grin as they prepared for bed, and Armonikós smiled without a word. He’d always found older men more attractive than the beardless youths preferred by most men, but that was something of a taboo subject in polite conversation. It was easier to go along with the others, and there weren’t many opportunities for love and sex in their line of work anyway. Mostly those moments came at the rare symposia the men were able to attend, and the occasional visits home to their wives. It was possible one of the Kobaloi might bed the young slave that night, but not likely.

The men made offerings to Hermes as part of their regular evening ritual, pouring honey onto cakes and leaving them in front of the inn’s small statue to the god. Sometimes they could afford to leave grander gifts to show their appreciation for his goodwill, such as entire slaughtered animals, but times had been tough lately. 

“Please consider my appeal for the Pipes of Pan,” Armonikós prayed silently to Hermes as he poured out a small cup of wine. He'd patiently requested this every night for the past year. “If it is granted, I’ll sacrifice two lambs and a goat for you, and play intoxicating music to entertain the gods.” Some people believed Hermes was the father of Pan, so what better deity to petition for this wish? He was sure his special patron would listen to his pleas eventually.

“Remember: no thefts,” Katápsychros warned the others as they bid each other goodnight, with half the men in one room and the other half in the second. There was reluctant agreement all around, and everyone soon fell into exhausted sleep.

The Kobaloi slept well, but had to depart the inn hurriedly the next morning.  
“Didn’t I tell you not to steal?!” Katápsychros shouted at Aphlektos, who cringed with obvious embarrassment; absolutely nobody was happy with him.  
“Forgive me, the opportunity was simply too good to resist…the coins were just lying out in the open!”  
“Those coins may get us all killed!” Dineuō snapped angrily, casting a worried eye at the two men chasing them.  
“And we’ll never retrieve our buried goods unless we can sneak back and dig them up!” Aētos fretted. “So your coins might have cost far more than they’re worth!”  
“I’ll make it up to everyone,” Aphlektos vowed anxiously, but they had to escape before he could think about compensation. They kept running, and eventually their pursuers slipped farther and farther behind them until disappearing from sight entirely.

Despite being fit young men in the prime of life, the thieves had to stop for a long rest to catch their breath.  
“I never want to do that again,” Epíklopos gasped, sprawling in the grass next to the road. Everyone was gulping their precious water supplies faster than Katápsychros was comfortable with, and he was concerned about how they’d get more for the rest of the day.  
“Now we have to decide if we want to go back for our goods,” Armonikós reminded the others pointedly, and there was a chorus of tired groans. Aētos finally took the opportunity to punch Aphlektos in the face, and the crew was so angry at their bald comrade that nobody intervened.  
“I’ll burn you for that,” Aphlektos hissed, but he was known to be all bark and no bite, so the others paid him little mind. He rubbed his cheek resentfully and the matter was considered settled for the moment.

“Times have been difficult lately, so I think we have little choice but to go back,” Dineuō opined. “But only under the cover of darkness, of course.”  
“Right,” Katápsychros nodded calmly. “And then we have to get the hell out of the area as soon as possible, because there may be more men looking for us. Are we all agreed?”  
Not everyone liked the idea, but they were outvoted and plans were soon decided; they’d lay low until evening, and then begin the trek back to the burial site.

“We might as well get some rest in the meantime,” Aētos suggested with a yawn and stretch, and the others settled in for a much-desired lazy day. But they should have known it couldn’t last.  
“G-give back the money,” a voice quavered behind them, trying and failing to sound stern. The Kobaloi turned around and looked at the speaker in disbelief: a middle-aged man stood alone and obviously aware of how vulnerable he was.  
“Is that a joke?” Katápsychros asked, eyebrow raised. “Who do you think you are?”  
“I’m Dromaios,” the man said with a bit more confidence. “And it’s no joke. You took money that belonged to my friend, and you must give it back.”

The thieves slowly got to their feet, all grinning widely, and the lone do-gooder was reminded of wolves circling their prey.  
“Well, ‘Dromaios’, let’s see how fast you really are,” Katápsychros smirked with a distinctly unkind look in his eyes. There was no need to give an order because everyone guessed the plan, and they suddenly ran full tilt at the interloper. At first he tried to stand his ground, but his resolve quickly crumbled upon realizing that the men might actually do him harm. None held visible weapons, but could have been hiding knives or small clubs underneath their himatia.

“Hermes help me!” Dromaios cried out to the god of swiftness as he ran. He’d always been fast, but was still tired from his long jog after the thieves -- and they were significantly younger than he. Some of them were already gaining on him, so he looked around frantically for a shortcut they might not be familiar with.

But there was a sudden flash of light and a man stood in front of him, forcing Dromaios to stop abruptly to avoid a collision. The tall newcomer held a gleaming kērukeion in his left hand and wore the hat of a traveller, and he bore a distinctly impish expression on his handsome face.  
“You called for my assistance?” the man inquired with an amused smile, and Dromaios gasped in shock. The Kobaloi were equally stunned by what was happening, and everyone stopped where they stood.

“Messenger..!” Dromaios breathed. “Thank you, Busy One!”  
“I am busy, so I haven’t got all day,” Hermes replied with that same merry smile. “What do you ask of me?”  
“I…I need to get away from these men who are chasing me.”  
“Then you shall have the speed your name suggests,” the god answered grandly, waving the hand which held the staff. For a moment Dromaios felt like his entire body was on fire, but the painful sensation quickly passed. And in an instant he’d taken off like a shot, moving far faster than any mortal being and zipping twice around the startled thieves.

“Thank you, Messenger!” Dromaios shouted with delight as he continued experimenting with his new ability. It was the most fun he’d ever had, and a power completely beyond even his wildest dreams. “I’ll sacrifice five pigs for you!”  
“See that you do,” Hermes answered, and turned back to his previous business, but Katápsychros strode forward.  
“Ready-Helper, we’ve worshipped and sacrificed to you for years. Where are our gifts?”  
The god stopped and smirked at the Kobaloi, who took a few steps back in reverent fear. Katápsychros had instantly regretted his greedy words.  
“That’s true, little thieves. I’ve heard your prayers and admired your crimes, petty as they are. I suppose it’s only fair to grant you a boon now that I’ve empowered a man of the law. So you too will have abilities based on your names.”

Hermes waved his hand, and the Kobaloi experienced the same momentary burning sensation that Dromaios had. Dineuō, Katápsychros, and Aphlektos dropped to the ground as they writhed in pain, but the strange feeling passed just as swiftly as it had begun.  
“These pipes..!” Armonikós exclaimed in astonishment, gazing down at the instrument which had appeared in his hands. “Are they..?”  
“They’re the Pipes of Pan, just as you’d asked,” the god nodded. “I expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain.”  
“Of course, Luck-Bringer!” Armonikós replied joyously. “No other mortal will ever play such sweet music for the gods.” He was careful not to imply he would be better than the gods themselves, especially considering that Hermes was known to be skilled with instruments.

“And I saved something special for you, clever one,” Hermes said to Epíklopos. “You’ve received a small portion of my own divine abilities to confuse and deceive. You’re my favourite of the group,” he noted with a sly grin.  
“Thank you, Giver of Joy. I’ll use them solely to honour your glory,” Epíklopos replied with an oddly similar smirk, and the two tricksters laughed together.

“I must be going,” the god finally announced, still smiling. He pretended not to notice Dromaios’ dismayed face, although it was obvious how the man felt about his new enemies' empowerment. “And it would be _terrible_ if the lot of you were to create too much havoc here on Earth,” Hermes continued. “Why, the human authorities and the gods themselves would be driven to distraction!”  
“We’ll remember that, Messenger,” Katápsychros replied with a slight smile of his own. “Thank you graciously for our gifts.”  
Hermes nodded and then disappeared in an instant, leaving the seven men alone.

Dromaios stood in place for a few moments, still shocked and trying to process everything he’d just witnessed. But he’d gotten this new ability for a reason, so he soon ran towards the thieves with a plan to retrieve the stolen money.  
“Stay back!” Aphlektos shouted at him, adopting a boxing stance to ward off the attacker. And the strangest thing happened: fire burst from his hands and forced Dromaios to retreat, although Aphlektos was left completely unharmed. He stared at his fingers in shock, but Katápsychros immediately understood what had happened.  
“That’s Hermes’ gift! We can fight back now!”

Katápsychros didn’t know exactly what his own new ability would be, but he raised his palms towards Dromaios and concentrated. In moments, everyone felt the surrounding temperature begin to drop and moved well away from him; the effects weren’t as dramatic as Aphlektos’ flames, but he was still pleased with it. He’d always loved cold weather, and rarely got to enjoy it in Greece’s mild climate. Hermes had indeed been generous.

But Dineuō and Aētos exchanged unhappy glances as they watched the others delighting in their new powers.  
“What about us? Did Hermes forget to give us something?” Dineuō wondered aloud. “If his gifts were based on our names, I’m not even sure what we _could_ receive.”  
“Don’t question the wisdom of the gods,” Epíklopos said sharply, with that same slight trickster’s smile playing on his face. “You need to figure it out for yourself.”

Dromaios chose that moment of distraction to make another strike, hoping to catch the thieves unaware and run off with the money before they could even fight back. Aphlektos and Katápsychros were taken by surprise but reacted with their elemental powers, and Armonikós began to play the Pipes of Pan. Dromaios clutched his head in pain from their attacks, but still managed to knock out Katápsychros and Aphlektos at high speeds.

“Give me the money and we can stop fighting,” Dromaios told them, breathing heavily and in a fair amount of discomfort from the unearthly music.  
“I think not!” Aētos shouted, and took a leap of faith in the gifts of Hermes. He concentrated in the direction of Dromaios, and everyone was startled by a lightning bolt which abruptly tore from the heavens and struck the ground inches away from the speedster.  
“I…I have Zeus’ divine thunderbolt,” Aētos gasped as he stared at his hands. “I have the power of the gods themselves!”

Dromaios realized he was outnumbered and in deep trouble, so he decided to make a quick retreat before getting killed. He began to run, and none of the Kobaloi’s powers were enough to catch him; even so, Epíklopos and Armonikós briefly chased after him despite knowing they’d never make it. But Dineuō, who felt distinctly self-conscious and angry about not getting any special abilities, kept running in pursuit. Amazingly, his footsteps suddenly took on strange rotations as he ran, and in moments he’d begun to spin at high speed after the fleeing hero.  
“What the..?” Aphlektos muttered as he slowly pulled himself to his feet and watched the strange scene.  
“Never question the gods,” Epíklopos announced with a smug grin, putting a brotherly arm around Armonikós.

Dineuō continued spinning after Dromaios with astonishing swiftness and the runner was beginning to get seriously concerned, but Dromaios also had a head start and was clearly the faster of the two. Eventually he was able to put significant distance between them, so Dineuō had to give up the chase and return empty-handed to his comrades.  
“I lost him,” he reported with some chagrin, but Katápsychros clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder.  
“No matter. We’ve gotten away with the money, and have proved that we’re more than a match for him.”  
“And you got your powers just like the rest of us,” Aphlektos chimed in.  
“No one can catch us,” Aētos declared proudly, ideas obviously churning through his mind. Everyone was formulating plans for grand thefts and evading the authorities, because even the mighty Athenian lawmen would have difficulty thwarting them. And Athens was filled with vast riches for plunder.

“So what do we do next?” Armonikós asked the others, and Katápsychros smiled broadly. So many new avenues were unexpectedly open to them now, and he couldn’t wait to begin.  
“We’ll start with the goods buried near the inn.”


End file.
